September 17, 2013

over the weekend

Sophie came home from an early morning volleyball practice, grabbed a cookbook and said, "I think I'll make muffins."

Finally, the subliminal messages I pipe through the house at night are beginning to pay off!

Captain Haddock moved into a new habitat. He's much too deep and unfathomable to say so, but the last one wasn't romantic enough for his soul.

I went for a run, came around a corner, and saw this. It made me happy for the rest of the day.

I also got a lot of writing done. I know I keep saying this, but the difference between envisioning a story and actually putting it into words cannot be overemphasized. The first takes about ten seconds and you can do it while sipping a mango lassi. The latter takes about an eon and deposits you in a pit with the pyramid builders of old, only in this case you're not hauling colossal blocks of limestone, you're staggering beneath an onerous burden of words.

But if you're not melodramatic, if probably isn't that bad.

(p.s. Words, I take back what I said about being an onerous burden. You're not the problem. I am.)

The girls decided to round up all the glitter in the universe and see what would happen if they didn't use it carefully.

Fried eggs, a red velvet cupcake, cotton candy, and enormous, sparkly muffins. What more could a paper doll ask for?

Dear me, is anyone in charge of this brouhaha?

Did the headmistress go into hiding?

The next morning, when they returned to school, I noticed there was glitter everywhere. And I mean everywhere.

Our house has been coated in a fine sheen of sparkle, dear reader. It's been generously lacquered in glitz. It's like the fairies came and held an all night convention, downing one too many thimbles of dandelion juice.

The hard kind, if you know what I'm saying.

At first I decided to see the wonder of it all, the secret delight of ubiquitous, shimmering footprints.

Then I segued to a brief, mental rant.

Then I remembered what Jeanette said about being grateful to wash the same dishes repeatedly and switched back to the wonder of it all, knowing that if I'm lucky, I'll be cleaning up this glitter every day for the rest of my life.

Comments

Sophie came home from an early morning volleyball practice, grabbed a cookbook and said, "I think I'll make muffins."

Finally, the subliminal messages I pipe through the house at night are beginning to pay off!

Captain Haddock moved into a new habitat. He's much too deep and unfathomable to say so, but the last one wasn't romantic enough for his soul.

I went for a run, came around a corner, and saw this. It made me happy for the rest of the day.

I also got a lot of writing done. I know I keep saying this, but the difference between envisioning a story and actually putting it into words cannot be overemphasized. The first takes about ten seconds and you can do it while sipping a mango lassi. The latter takes about an eon and deposits you in a pit with the pyramid builders of old, only in this case you're not hauling colossal blocks of limestone, you're staggering beneath an onerous burden of words.

But if you're not melodramatic, if probably isn't that bad.

(p.s. Words, I take back what I said about being an onerous burden. You're not the problem. I am.)

The girls decided to round up all the glitter in the universe and see what would happen if they didn't use it carefully.

Fried eggs, a red velvet cupcake, cotton candy, and enormous, sparkly muffins. What more could a paper doll ask for?

Dear me, is anyone in charge of this brouhaha?

Did the headmistress go into hiding?

The next morning, when they returned to school, I noticed there was glitter everywhere. And I mean everywhere.

Our house has been coated in a fine sheen of sparkle, dear reader. It's been generously lacquered in glitz. It's like the fairies came and held an all night convention, downing one too many thimbles of dandelion juice.

The hard kind, if you know what I'm saying.

At first I decided to see the wonder of it all, the secret delight of ubiquitous, shimmering footprints.

Then I segued to a brief, mental rant.

Then I remembered what Jeanette said about being grateful to wash the same dishes repeatedly and switched back to the wonder of it all, knowing that if I'm lucky, I'll be cleaning up this glitter every day for the rest of my life.